


Remedy

by AnUnhealthyDoseOfAngst



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin helps you deal with your migraine, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUnhealthyDoseOfAngst/pseuds/AnUnhealthyDoseOfAngst
Summary: My first work in this fandom. A short fluffy piece about dealing with a migraine episode because migraines are the worst.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Remedy

My head is throbbing, has been since I woke up at 3 am. Mando left yesterday morning to meet a contact and hopefully find some supplies. It also means that the child has been left in my care. Believe it or not, chasing a kid with magic abilities around did not help stave off the oncoming migraine. The pain started as usual, high up on the right side of my head. From there it spread down to the inner corner of my eye, vision blurring in its trail, and it won't be long until it reaches my jaw and renders me useless. If Mando would just hurry the fuck up and get back then maybe I could relax rather than attempt to scan the surroundings like a partially blind hawk. Someone must have heard me make a wish though because not long after a familiar figure approaches the Razor Crest. At the press of a button, the ramp lowers with a hiss and light footsteps begin to make their way onto the ship. I turn to face him as the door to the cockpit opens. His voice comes out raspy, modulated by the helmet.

“Is the kid asleep?” I pinch my nose between thumb and pointer finger, applying more pressure as I slide them up towards my eyes.

“Mhm, conked out about an hour ago.” Wasting no time, he sets down a crate then turns to exit the cockpit again.

“There’s more to load.” I move to follow and help him. The second I stand up my head implodes. The urge to clutch my head is stronger than the reflex to stop myself from falling and I tip forward. A pair of hands catch me, stopping me from dropping to the floor. My face is resting against something smooth and cold. Maker, it feels good.

“Are you injured?” I know that shaking my head will only hurt more so I grunt out a ‘no’ while trying not to grind my teeth. Without thinking, I nuzzle in closer so that the beskar better chills my skin. His hands suddenly tighten and I realize what I’m doing; using his priceless armor as a remedy for my headache. I straighten myself as quickly as I dare to and stumble backwards.

"Sorry." His helmet is trained on me with such silent intensity that one would think I’d suddenly grown an extra head.

“It's cold,” I explain awkwardly, taking yet another step back “Soothes my head." His head tilts a little to the side and I imagine that he’s studying me from behind the helmet. Finally he gives a nod. It’s not the first time he’s seen me suffer an episode but it is probably the worst one; I blame the sun that’s been bearing down on us ever since we landed not to mention the sheer physical strain of our last mission.

"I'll finish loading the supplies,” he informs me “Go rest." Climbing down the ladder is a perilous undertaking as my vision comes and goes along with a spreading numbness but I do make it down without falling and curl up on my cot to hopefully sleep it away.

*******

Every sound from the ship is amplified and each and every one of them are trying to drill their way into my skull. I damn near snarl when the door to my cot zips open without warning. And then actually snarl when the light from the corridor hits me. Mando is quick to step in front of the light and give me some reprieve.

“Easy.” His voice is mostly calm even though I just made a noise like a furious animal at him. He gestures for me to get up, something that I do slowly and reluctantly. Another jolt of pain shoots through the entire length of my face. Cursing out loud, I stumble over a crate that I didn’t see.

"Hey!” Mando briefly grabs my arm and steadies me “Don’t pass out." He guides me the few steps from my cot to spot on the floor outside his own sleeping space. The door to his cot is open too and from it the sounds of a soundly sleeping child can be heard. A pile of blankets, somewhat worn but meticulously folded, is placed on the floor right in front of the cot.

“Sit.” I slide down onto the blankets as quietly as possible to not wake the child then peer up at the bounty hunter. He turns off the main light, blanketing me in blessed darkness. I still see the outline of him as he sits down next to me.

“Tomorrow’s going to be a shitstorm.” I’m tempted to ask if there’s ever any days that aren’t shitstorms but I’m having a hard enough time focusing on his words without talking myself. He shifts a little, as if settling in, and peers at me from behind the mask.

“I need you to be able to do things without passing out from pain.” His left arm opens in a gesture that I think is inviting. I think. When a couple of seconds pass without me reacting to the invite the fingers of his hand twitch into something like a ‘come on’ sign. Okay then. I lean against his side. A sigh escapes me as the cool metal blunts the edges of the pain, reshaping it into something more manageable.

“Thank you.” I murmur. He shifts again, but very carefully.

“Get some sleep.”


End file.
